The Archbishop, hearing of Reformation to be made in his cathedral Church, thought it time to stir if ever he were to do so. He assembled his colleagues and confederate fellows, besides his other friends, and came to the town upon the Saturday night, accompanied by a hundred spears, desiring to have stopped John Knox from preaching. The two Lords and gentlemen foresaid were only accompanied by their quiet households, and the sudden coming of the Archbishop was the more fearful; for the Queen and her Frenchmen having departed from Perth, were then lying in Falkland, within twelve miles of St. Andrews. Besides, the town had not at that time given profession of Christ, and therefore the Lords could not be assured of their friendship. After consultation, many were of opinion that the preaching should be delayed for that day, and especially that John Knox should not preach; for the Archbishop had affirmed that he would not suffer this, seeing that the picture of the said John had formerly been burned by his commandment. He instructed an honest gentleman, Robert Colville of Cleish, to say to the Lords that did John Knox present himself at the preaching place in his town and principal church, he should "gar[135] him be saluted with a dozen culverins, whereof the most part should light upon his nose." [135] Cause. [Sidenote: John Knox declines to obey the Dictates of the Archbishop.] After long deliberation, the said John was called, that his own judgment might be had. Many persuasions were used to induce him to delay for that time, and great terrors were threatened if he should enterprise such a thing, in seeming contempt of the Archbishop. But he answered, "God is witness that I never preached Christ Jesus in contempt of any man, nor am I disposed at any time to present myself at that place, from respect to my own private commodity, or to the worldly hurt of any creature; but I cannot conscientiously delay to preach to-morrow, unless my body be violently withholden. In this town and church, God first began to call me to the dignity of a preacher. From this I was reft by the tyranny of France, by procurement of the bishops, as ye all know well enough. How long I continued prisoner, what torment I sustained in the galleys, and what were the sobs of my heart, it is now no time to recite. This only I cannot conceal. More than one have heard me say, when the body was far absent from Scotland, that my assured hope was that I should preach in St. Andrews in open audience before I departed this life.